


Rings on Her Fingers

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Series: Nightclub Meetings [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River Song and Clara Oswald, sharing drinks and a chance meeting. What could they possibly get up to?</p><p>Written for the Golden Oldies Porn Battle; the original prompt was posted in Porn Battle XV. The prompt is River Song/Clara Oswin Oswald, rings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rings on Her Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> This story is meant to be read after its prequel, Giving In. However, if you insist on experiencing time as a strict progression of cause to effect, you can read this first.

Clara toys with the ring on her finger, feeling it twist soothingly through the thin material of her gloves. One minute, she and the Doctor had landed in a posh, futuristic bar; the next minute, he's swanning off to talk to someone across the room. “Stay here,” he'd said. “I'll be right back.” At the time, she had shrugged and claimed a barstool. He'd left her a cube with a surprisingly high number of credits on it, so she'd bought herself a drink and settled in to watch the crowd and listen to the music.

Now, however, she was scanning the crowd with more than idle interest, and her hands were worrying her ring, neglecting the local equivalent of a very dry martini. 

“It's very pretty,” a female voice intrudes. Clara blinks, and River Song gestures to her hand. “The ring; he never got me one.” She smirks. “Never wanted one, though we've been married often enough.”

“Oh! No. It's my mother's ring. We're not married. Not even a little bit.” 

Now it's River's turn to blink. “Goodness, it is early for you,” she murmurs, hand coming up to Clara's cheek. Clara freezes, but she doesn't flinch away from the strong, callused fingers. “You're so young.” 

“Thanks,” Clara says inanely, more or less lost in River's eyes because, damn, this woman is gorgeous. She leans gently into the firm touch of River's hand; she may not have control over her words but by God she is going to keep her footing, she decides, and she plunges into the kiss. 

She doesn't notice anything else until River's fingers reach the patch of bare thigh between her stockings and her knickers. She gasps, making River draw back. “I'm sorry, I thought we were further along.”

Clara blushes as the back of her mind whirls, trying to make sense of everything. She doesn't have to be Madame Vastra to figure out that she clearly has quite a lot of excellent time-traveler sex in her personal future. “We are,” she lies brazenly, because she wants River Song, and if she's going to shy off on account of this being her first time, then, well, lying it is. “I just thought, you know, out here?”

River raises an arch eyebrow. “What do you think all those people are doing?” She leans back to give Clara a better view of the room. Sure enough, various couples and groups are doing more than just dancing and drinking.

“Point,” Clara says, and downs the rest of her martini to buy her a few seconds and to drown the taste of fear in her mouth. “Shall we?” she asks, moving River's hand back onto her leg. River smirks and cocks an eyebrow, but picks up where she left off, and seconds later Clara's knickers have vanished into River's handbag; is that the glint of a gun in there? Definitely not ordinary, she thinks as tight blonde curls fall forward as River kisses her, grazing Clara's cheeks. She moans as River's hands part her thighs easily, as her fingers march their way up her body. 

She clings to the older woman as River works her to orgasm, fingers scissoring and coaxing, seemingly without putting any effort into it. She's utterly out of her depth, which scares her a little, but if the sex is going to be this good, she can drop her self-control now and then. “That was...” she sags back against the bar.

River winks at her. “I've had a while to learn your quirks. Where to touch, how hard, how fast...” She smirks as Clara turns from red with exertion to redder with embarrassment. “You know, I said before that the Doctor never got me a ring,” she reaches into her purse, “but we do have one.” A simple metal ring from which two small silver keys depend. Keys such as might open a small box...or a pair of handcuffs. “If you'll excuse me,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “I've got to go put these to use.” The tip of her tongue grazes the edge of Clara's ear. “And then maybe you can return the favor.”

Clara grins as River moves away—kinky old bastard, holding out on her!--when the Ood server stops next to her with a tray of drinks. “Shadowed Rg'lwelll will rise from deathless slumber,” it informs her.

“Oh, that can't be good,” Clara mutters, and goes off to get into trouble.


End file.
